


Russian Roulette

by Geonn



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-14
Updated: 2011-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-14 18:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1918. Helen, James Watson, and Nigel Griffin are sent to Russia on a rescue mission that ends up far more complicated than even they could have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russian Roulette

_Siberia, 1918,_  
When she fell, a red spray spread across the snow in either direction. At first it looked as if her blood had frozen as it felt her body and fell as crystals, but she quickly realized the truth. The bullet had torn the cloth of her uniform and released the rubies hidden there. She grabbed the trunk of a petrified black tree and hauled herself to her feet, blood trickling down her face from the dozens of small, stinging cuts that lined her forehead. Her arms and legs felt like dead limbs attached to her body like a mad scientist, and she forced her feet to pull from the snow and continue forward.

They had been on the run for eight days. Not sleeping, not stopping to check on Watson's progress. Her mind felt foggy as she trudged through the woods. Someone shouted in Russian and the voice echoed off the forest of dead trees. She could hear someone pursuing her, their heavy footsteps crushing the snow in her wake, and she forced herself onward.

For eight days she hadn't been able to change clothes, because her bags were still in Ekaterinburg. For eight days she had been forced to assume that her plan was working without any evidence to back her up. It felt like years. She tripped over her feet and only prevented a fall by grabbing a branch. It broke in her grasp and the bark cut her palm. She didn't feel the scrapes, but the blood was warm on her icy flesh.

The track was just ahead. If she could get there, she would--

She never saw the arm extend, stretching out from the tree she was rounding like a branch that had been brought to life. She ran into it full force and was thrown to the ground, her ribs aching from the impact and making it hard to draw breath. Her attacker stepped away from the tree like a dark dryad. His beard was thick and black, the skin of his cheeks and sloped forehead grey and red like a tree caught in a forest fire. He smelled of smoke and soot as he stood over her. His red eyes locked onto her and held her motionless.

She knew it wouldn't do any good to run. He would catch her before she made it ten feet.

"You lost." Her words were Russian, spit into the wind that had picked up around her attacker.

"But you did not win."

As he reached for her with one inhumanly large hand, Helen Magnus closed her eyes and waited for her death.

 _London, Three Months Earlier,_  
"He left us tea." James turned away from the tea service to see if Helen was enticed. She stood at the window, her back to the room. He sighed and poured a cup for both of them. "It's something, at least."

"Yes, it's something," Helen agreed. "A bribe to soften the extortion."

James winced. "Helen..."

She turned away from the window. "Would you prefer another term? Prostitution? Slavery?"

He lifted one teacup and held it out to her until she took it. His voice was calm when he spoke. "In the past ten years, we've done more good than in the previous thirty combined. I was against our Faustian bargain with the Crown from the very beginning, if you recall, but the Sanctuary has thrived. We don't have to worry about being imprisoned or run out of the country because of what we do, and we have the protection of the strongest--"

"I know all of that," Helen interrupted. "But I cannot bear the knowledge that we are at his majesty's beck and call. Our work is just as important as whatever errand he wishes us to run."

The door opened behind them and Helen sipped her tea to punctuate her thought. She turned and frowned at the man standing before her. King George V smiled, obviously pleased to have caught them off-guard and turned to the footman who'd escorted him to the room. "We won't be long. Please wait in the corridor." He closed the door and indicated the seating area in front of the fireplace. "No doubt you expected to deal with David."

James nodded. "Yes. In the past the Crown has always preferred a buffer zone between itself and the nasty business of dealing with the likes of us."

If the King was offended, he showed no indication of it as he took a seat. Helen sat to his right while James remained standing beside the divan.

"This matter requires a bit more delicacy. I'm sure you're aware of the current situation in Russia. The unrest following my cousin's abdication. He requested asylum here in Britain and, originally, I was willing to offer it. He is my cousin, after all, and I fear the worst if he remains in Russia during this uprising. I've been speaking with my advisors on it, and we've come to a public decision. Given the political state, it would be... unwise... to bring the former tsar to these shores. It would only extend the unrest that could extend this damnable war. I feel we're nearing an armistice. It would be calamitous to stir controversy at this time.

"Privately, however..." He brought his hand to his face, using his finger to stroke the hairs of his mustache. Helen could see the tears in his eyes and, despite her anger at being summoned, felt for his pain. "I could not bear the thought of his poor children giving their lives for political unrest. These past few years, your Sanctuary organization has shown great skill at extracting Abnormals from unfortunate situations. Freeing them from captivity and transporting them to safety. I will not demand, nor order, your assistance in this matter; I simply request you consider the children. They are innocents in this matter."

Helen didn't have to look at James to know he was convinced. She was convinced as well. Despite her anger at being summoned in such a manner, she could hardly turn her back on children. Since Imogene... she pushed the thought away and focused on the King again. He was watching them with hope in his eyes, one hand resting on his knee to prevent it from bouncing with impatience. Helen had never seen a royal look so vulnerable.

"I can't guarantee all five of us will be available," she said finally. "Tesla is living in New York at the moment. Even if we could persuade him to listen to us, I doubt he would be moved by the problems you face."

The king nodded as if this was to be expected. "And Mr. Druitt? I could provide the plans of the home where Nicholas is staying. It would be a simple matter for him to simply... use his gift to extract the children."

A cloud passed over Helen's face. James answered for her. "Mr. Druitt is not available."

"That is unfortunate, but I suppose it cannot be helped." He stood, and Helen stood as well. She took the king's hand to seal their agreement. "Thank you."

"We'll be in contact when we know more details on how we'll go about this."

"I needn't remind you that time is of the essence."

"Of course not," James said. He shook the king's hand as well. "Good day, your Majesty."

The king left the room, once again surrounded by his coterie as soon as he left the room. Helen looked at James and released a frustrated sigh. "Why did it have to be children?"

James smiled and bent an elbow, offering it to Helen. "Come. Let us conspire."

 _Tobolsk, Russia  
April, 1918_  
The carriage stopped in front of the governor's mansion, an ornate two-story building surrounded by a wooden fence. The guards moved to open the door, one of them inspecting the interior while the other offered Helen his hand to help her climb out. She thanked him meekly as she stepped onto the pavement, pausing to smooth her hands over her uniform as the guard withdrew her solitary suitcase and placed it beside her. "Is there--" The guard was cut off by a sudden tremor that ran through the carriage. His hand was on his gun, his eyes sweeping the vehicle until whatever caused the shaking presented itself as a target.

"You should speak to the owner of this carriage. It's been doing that for the past twenty miles. I felt as though I was on a carnival ride!"

The guard nodded skeptically and finally turned to address Helen. "Name and station."

"Alena Shirshova. I am to be the children's new governess."

The guard who had searched the carriage picked up Helen's bag and escorted her to the door of the house. Helen wore the uniform of a parlor maid; a black dress with long sleeves, covered by a white frock. Her collar was tall and stiff, held together with a red ribbon. Her blonde hair was tied back in a French braid, topped by a frilly white cap. She waited on the step while he undid the lock and pushed the door open.

Helen took a step forward and then stopped, reaching down to touch her stomach just above the belt of her frock. "Oh!"

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing. Just a slight cramp." She tried not to smile at the guard's obvious discomfort; men rarely required further explanation when they feared receiving too much information about the female body. She cleared her throat and straightened. "I'm fine now. I apologize."

The guard stepped aside and allowed Helen into the house. She paused in the antechamber, admiring the architecture. She hoped if she was ever consigned to exile, she would receive a prison like this. The house seemed utterly silent as the guard stepped forward and indicated the two passages leading into the house. "Dining room," he said, indicating the forward passage and, to the left, "Parlor and personal quarters. The maids will know where you are supposed to be."

" _Spasiba_." Helen gave an informal curtsey as the guard stepped out of the house once again. She turned to watch him go and stepped into the corridor that led to the parlor. "I assume you made it inside."

"Had to brush by Ivan back there, but yeah." Nigel's voice came from Helen's right, farther down the corridor. He was barefoot so his movements made no sound, and she assumed that he was following her as she stepped into the main room.

Two young women were in the window seat with clothing draped across their laps, both of them bent to the task of mending some tear or another. The taller of the two noticed Helen's arrival and tapped the hand of her sister with two fingers. When both girls were looking at her, Helen smiled. "Hello. My name is Alena. Your father requested me to assist you with your schooling."

One of the girls stood, laying her dress carefully on the window seat before turning to face Helen. "I am Olga. This is Tatiana. How do you do, Alena?"

Both women were painfully thin, and neither of them looked like they had slept very much. "I'm very well. I'd like to put away my things before we get acquainted, if that would be all right. While I'm looking at my room, you can gather your brother and sisters for a proper introduction. Would that be all right?"

"Of course." Olga looked at Tatiana, who hurried away to get the others. "Allow me to show you your room. This way."

They went down a short corridor, and Olga turned to face Helen. "You speak Russian very well. But there is a hint of an accent."

"No," Helen said. "There's not."

Olga looked at her for a moment before opening the door to the last room in the row. "This shall be your room, if it's acceptable."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Helen stepped past the girl and turned to face her. "Have you spoken to your parents since they were moved to Ekaterinburg?"

"Letters. Nowhere near as many as I would like."

"And your brother? He's well?"

"As well as can be expected. Your WC is right through there. Not large, I'm afraid, but it will do for what you need. Better than sharing with the three of us girls." Olga stopped speaking and stared at Helen as if trying to look through her. "You're British."

Helen hesitated, and then nodded. "I am. Would you close the door?"

It was Olga's turn to hesitate, but she did as requested. Helen lowered her voice and spoke English. "Can you speak English?"

" _Da_ , yes."

"My name is Helen. I'm here because King George believes I can get you to safety."

Helen had anticipated stoic optimism, or a smile, but Olga merely accepted the information as if it was merely an interesting fact. "Do you believe you can do this?"

"I'm going to do my best."

"Maria is with my mother and father in Ekaterinburg. We will not abandon her."

Helen said, "We'll do our best to get her out as well. We thought it would be best to make our move now, while we have the four of you in one place."

Olga considered it and then nodded. "Perhaps it will work. I do not wish Anastasia or Alexei to know of this plot. They cannot be trusted to keep silent, and I do not want to... enliven them with false hopes."

"I understand."

"I will tell Tatiana tonight before dinner. Thank you, Helen. I wish you luck."

Helen was too surprised at the girl's dispassionate demeanor to say anything as she turned and left the room. Once the door was closed, Nigel materialized at the foot of the bed.

"Bit fatalistic, that one," he said.

Helen picked up the bedcover and tossed it to him. He wrapped it around his body like a toga and walked to the window to look outside. "They're not skimping on the guards. What, they think these little girls are going to try and escape by force?" He pushed the window open slightly so that he could get inside without going through the house.

"They believe the Russian people will storm the house and slaughter the duchesses in their sleep."

"Before the government gets the chance to do it themselves?"

Helen murmured, "Something like that. I'll watch over the girls through dinner. Watch the guards, look for any weakness in their defenses. We need to get these girls out of here before they're moved as well."

"Right. I'll see you tonight."

"Be careful."

Nigel disappeared and the blanket seemed to hover and drop back onto the bed of its own volition. Helen opened the door and stepped back to allow Nigel out, then stepped into the corridor herself. She started back toward the parlor, but a young girl stepped into the hall and surprised her. Olga and Tatiana were both in their twenties, but this girl was a few years younger. Since Maria was with her parents, it left little doubt as to who she was.

"Hello, Anastasia. We haven't been introduced yet."

"Miss Shirshova. Hello." She smiled politely.

Helen returned the smile and winked, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You may call me Alena, seeing as there are no real adults around."

"Who were you speaking to in your room? I heard a man's voice."

Helen waved her off. "A hobby. Ventriloquism. It's the act of throwing your voice and making it sound different. I'm afraid I forgot my dummy, but I do enjoy practicing."

Anastasia narrowed her eyes. "Show me."

"I am the very model of a modern major general," Nigel sang. "I've information vegetable, animal and mineral, I know the kings of England and I quote the fights historical, from Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical."

Anastasia spun around toward the voice's apparent origin, and then back at Helen. She shrugged and said, "It's a hobby."

" _Kruto_ ," Anastasia said, her eyes wide. She stepped forward and took Helen's hand, pulling her into the parlor. "You must help me prepare for my next performance."

"Performance?"

"Yes. To enliven the spirits of everyone during our time here. I have one prepared for Alexei when he is well enough. Boy, won't he be surprised!"

Helen smiled and scanned the room for signs of Nigel's presence. She hoped he would be around later to help her continue the ruse. Olga and Tatiana were in the parlor, folding the dresses they had been mending earlier. Tatiana looked up and observed Helen and her younger sister for a moment.

"Welcome, Alena. I'm sorry we did not have a chance to meet properly before."

"That's all right. We'll have plenty of time this evening to get to know one another. Then tomorrow we can begin on your lessons."

Tatiana nodded sagely and lifted the hem of the dress she was folding. "Do you sew, Alena?"

"I've been known to hem, but I prefer to nap." The girls looked at her and Helen winced. "Small joke. Yes, I can sew."

Olga knelt and removed a small box from underneath the sofa. She opened it to reveal a glistening pool of emeralds, rubies, sapphires and diamonds. Helen's eyebrows rose at the sight of them, and then she realized what the girls had been sewing into their clothing.

"Well." She picked up one of the rubies and held it up to the light. "I always knew the royals wore expensive clothes, but I had no idea."

Anastasia giggled behind her hand.

#

The few servants who remained in Tobolsk prepared dinner, and Helen ate in the kitchen with the girls. She met Alexei who, while obviously ill, seemed strong and lively. When they were alone, Anastasia asked Helen to do her ventriloquism trick. Helen declined, claiming it hurt her throat but promising a performance at breakfast.

After dinner, she assisted the maid with the dishes before retiring to her room. The window was closed, so Helen locked the door until she spotted the pile of towels in the corner. "Did you discover anything?"

"They have a damn dog," Nigel said. Helen lit the lamp and winced when Nigel became visible. He was swaddled in the towels, and there was a bruise on his right temple. "I very nearly left some very visible blood on the lawn. Hard to explain that to the guards."

"I appreciate your efforts, Nigel." She took off the cap from her uniform and laid it on the foot of the bed. She went to the vanity mirror and untied her frock. "I hope you didn't endanger yourself for nothing. Did you find anything about the security?"

Nigel stood and revealed the towels had been tied in a manner that they wouldn't fall. "Palisades all around the property, 'round the clock guard. Like you said, they're just as concerned with the kiddies getting out as they are about other people getting in." He stepped behind Helen and undid the buttons on the back of her dress. "I spent most of the afternoon wandering around, looking for places where the sentries didn't overlap. Didn't find anything worth mentioning. Certainly nothing big enough to get four kids past without being seen."

Helen furrowed her brow. "That does pose a problem. I don't suppose you've made any headway on bending around multiple individuals."

"Sorry. Made a pen disappear once, but it only lasted a few seconds."

Helen shrugged out of the uniform and pushed the dress down her legs. She stood before Nigel in her underwear, unabashed. The number of times she and the others had seen him naked, it seemed silly to have feign modesty.

"I heard the guards talking. Alexei is doing better, so they're planning to move the girls sooner rather than later. Figure mid-May."

"Damn. That doesn't leave us much time." She opened her suitcase and withdrew a nightgown.

Nigel cleared his throat and walked to the door. "Right. I'll leave you to your nightly business. I'll take a look around the house and see if I can find anything worth mentioning. I'll knock--" He rapped his knuckles five times against the doorframe, "--if I need back in for anything."

Helen nodded. "Goodnight, Nigel."

He bowed and then vanished from sight. The door opened just a crack as he slipped out into the hallway, and it closed with a click behind him. Helen folded the nightgown over her arm and went into the WC. As Olga warned it was very small, but Helen had dealt with much worse. She turned on the water and finished undressing as the tub filled, taking down her braid and threading her fingers through her hair.

She had just reached down to test the temperature of the water with her fingers when there was a knock, five rapid taps, on her bedroom door. Helen sighed and picked up her robe, shrugging into it as she walked to the door. She cinched the belt and opened the door just wide enough to allow Nigel inside.

"Something odd you oughta see, Helen." His voice came from the thick shadows in front of her door.

"Can it wait until I'm decent?"

Nigel hesitated. "I'd like to say yes, but I'm not sure how much longer it'll last."

Helen reluctantly nodded. She pulled the lapels of her robe closer together as she left her room. In the dark, it would have been difficult to follow anybody, let alone one who was invisible. Nigel plucked the loose material of her robe's sleeve and guided her down the corridor. They walked past Olga and Tatiana's rooms, through the parlor, to the kitchen. The moon shone through the glass, illuminating the room with dim gray light. Nigel released her sleeve. "Quiet now. Out on the terrace."

Helen moved closer to the large oven, hoping that her silhouette would be concealed by the large hood. When she reached the kitchen island, she stretched on her toes to look through the glass doors to the terrace. At first she only saw Tatiana, kneeling with her back to the door. Her legs were curled under her, the soles of her feet smudged and dirty. She craned her neck and spotted Olga and Anastasia as well. They were sitting in a triangle, all of them looking at a space in the center of their group. She heard a quiet murmur as one girl spoke.

"What are they saying?"

"They're talking to Maria."

Helen frowned; Maria was in Ekaterinburg and the girls were all too old to have pretend conversations in this manner. For some reason, the sight disturbed Helen in a way she couldn't quite explain.

"They've got three amulets on the ground. Glowing blue. That's what they're lookin' at."

Olga suddenly straightened and looked toward the kitchen. Helen backed away and hoped the shadows would conceal her, but the other girls started to stand as well.

"Go, go," Nigel whispered. "I'll hold 'em up."

Helen hurried from the kitchen, her bare feet slapping quietly on the floor as she went through the parlor and back to her room. She heard the door to the terrace rattle, but it refused to open. Helen silently thanked Nigel for his assistance as she returned to her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Only a handful of minutes passed before there was a knock on Helen's bedroom door. "Miss Shirshova? Are you awake?"

The lamp beside the bed was on, so there was no use lying. "Yes. What are you doing awake, Anastasia?"

"I thought I heard something in the kitchen."

"Yes, I thought I'd have a bit of a midnight snack."

"May I come in and share?"

Helen felt a chill. "I'm afraid I'm not decent. You should really be in bed, Duchess."

Silence from the corridor. Helen looked at her nightstand for something she could use to defend herself. The thought of having to fight off a seventeen year old girl was ridiculous, but she chose to err on the side of caution.

"Goodnight, Miss Shirshova."

"Goodnight, Anastasia. I'll see you in the morning, and I'll do my voice throwing trick."

Anastasia giggled, and the sound was far eerier than it had been that afternoon. "Okay."

Helen heard the door to Anastasia's room close, and then unlocked her own bedroom door. A few seconds later the door opened and closed by itself. He remained invisible rather than find something to cover himself with. "Was that as creepy on this side of the door as it was--"

"More so," Helen said. "What on Earth--"

"No clue. I was walking through the house looking for weak spots when all three of 'em slipped out of the bedroom they're sharing. They all went out there, put down their little amulets, and started talking. The amulets started to glow, and that's when I came to get you."

"Very eerie," Helen said. "And Anastasia's voice seemed... odd."

"Noticed that too. Your, ah... bath is getting cold. I'll keep an eye on things in the house, let you know if the chickies go wandering again. Night, Helen."

"Goodnight, Nigel. Oh. I've promised to do my 'ventriloquist' bit at breakfast."

"I'll be there. Sleep tight. And... just to be on the safe side--"

"I'll lock the door. Thank you, Nigel." She waited until he had time to get out of the room before she closed the door. She hesitated with her hand over the lock, questioning herself for being afraid of these young women. She couldn't deny there was something peculiar going on. Until she knew more, she wasn't going to take any chances.

She turned the lock and went to her bath.

#

The next morning, Helen was up in time to hear Tatiana waking the other girls for breakfast. She put on her uniform, checked her cap in the mirror, and stepped out in the corridor. Anastasia was just leaving the room she shared with her sisters, still in her nightgown, and her eyes brightened at the sight of the new maid.

"Alena!" She hurried down the hall and, despite her misgivings the night before, Helen felt none of the dread that had come over her the night before. She smiled as the girl grabbed her hand. She leaned forward and spoke to Helen in a whisper. "I haven't told Alexei of your hobby. I told him that I believe the house to be haunted, and I'll pretend to feel the ghost at breakfast."

Helen smiled. "What a terrible trick to play on your little brother."

"And I thought of it all by myself," Anastasia said proudly. She laced her fingers in Helen's and walked with her to the kitchen. The girl seemed back to normal, with none of the weight and threat behind her voice as Helen had heard the night before. Helen wondered where Nigel was as they made their way through the house; she hoped he remembered they had a performance.

The other maids, dressed in uniforms identical to Helen's, were already preparing breakfast when they arrived. Olga and Tatiana were doing their part to help, and Alexei was sitting at the kitchen table nibbling on a piece of toast. He was a tall boy, with a serious expression on his face as he sat alone at the large table.

Anastasia began speaking as soon as they entered the room. "That's marvelous, Alena! Just marvelous! Tanya, you won't believe what our new governess was just telling me!"

Tatiana said, "Be still, Ana."

Anastasia ignored her and hurried to the table. "Alexei! Alena was just telling me that this house is haunted."

The boy looked at Helen, the toast hovering near his lips. "Really?"

"Well, it's mainly rumors and urban legends."

Anastasia turned to Helen and winked. "You said you heard voices last night."

A hand brushed Helen's arm. "Yes, I did."

"Well? What did it say?"

Nigel said, "It's been a long while since the house has had such beauty in it."

Olga dropped the bowl she had been carrying, both hands going to cover her mouth as she spun toward the source of the voice. Tatiana looked around for the man's voice; after so long in captivity she had learned the voices of the male guards. She furrowed her brow and faced Helen. "How on earth did you do that?"

"It's a talent I have." Helen was watching Olga, who had grown even paler after hearing the voice. "Olga, I apologize. Have I frightened you?"

"Excuse me," Olga muttered, pushing away from the center island and hurrying from the kitchen.

Tatiana followed her. "Olishka, wait..."

Anastasia looked abashed. "I didn't think she would take it so seriously."

"It's not your fault," Helen said.

Alexei smiled shyly. "I thought it was really cool."

Helen returned his smile and looked toward the door Olga and Tatiana had gone through. She assumed Nigel would follow them, so she remained in the kitchen with Anastasia, Alexei and the cook. "How did everyone sleep last night?"

"Very well," Alexei said.

Anastasia was staring at her empty plate, apparently not hearing the question.

"Ana?" Helen said. She reached over and touched the girl's hand. Anastasia recoiled from the touch, her eyes widening as she spun toward Helen. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. How did you and your sisters sleep last night?"

"We slept well." Anastasia's voice seemed flatter, and Helen again felt the chill from the night before.

"May I see your necklace?" She'd noticed the chain earlier, but most of the necklace was hidden by Anastasia's nightgown.

The girl brought her hand up and touched the necklace through the material. "No. It's special."

"Is it from your father?"

"No." She said it as if she didn't know the answer, but she knew Helen's wasn't correct. She suddenly turned in her chair and looked at the stove. "Do you need help with breakfast?"

"I can always use an extra pair of hands," the cook said.

Anastasia stood and crossed the kitchen, turning her back to Helen in the process. Helen took that as a not so subtle indication that their conversation on the necklace was finished. Alexei motioned for Helen to lean forward and he whispered to her across the table. "The necklaces were a gift. All my sisters have one."

"I see. A gift from whom?"

Alexei's smile brightened. "Rasputin."

"Ah." She'd heard of Grigori Rasputin, the 'Mad Monk,' naturally, but he'd been dead for more than a year. "They must consider them very precious."

He grinned and, for the first time, Helen saw him as a typical thirteen year old boy. "Considering how they spit and scratch when I try to take them, I'd say so."

Helen laughed with him as Anastasia served their breakfast. The conversation about the necklace seemed forgotten as Anastasia teased Alexei about a spot of jam on his chin. Tatiana and Olga returned, Olga's eyes rimmed with red from tears she'd already wiped away. Helen waited until Olga was seated before she spoke.

"I apologize if I upset you."

"It's all right," Olga said softly. She lifted her eyes to Helen's and her voice suddenly seemed to grow stronger. "But you simply must show us how you do that trick. It's simply marvelous."

"I'm not sure it can be taught."

Olga gave her a tight smile. "Well. We shall see."

#

The lessons were supposed to commence that afternoon, but Helen agreed that there was time for math later. She sat with the girls in the parlor, the discomfort of the night before pushed to the back of her mind as Tatiana explained how to sew the jewels into her clothing without making a noticeable bulge. "I hope you don't mind us using your uniform," Olga said. "There is so much I feared we would have to pretend to be pregnant just to explain the bulk of our clothes."

Helen smiled. "Not at all. Anything I can do to help."

Alexei had his own tutor, and they were sitting in the dining room. They were near enough that Helen could hear them, but she couldn't see them. Helen had removed her frock and was carefully concealing rubies in the material. Anastasia was sitting at Helen's feet, tacitly adopting Helen as her own as one would a pet. Helen didn't mind; she liked the young girl well enough and Anastasia seemed like the kind of girl that required keeping a special eye on.

While they worked, Olga began humming under her breath. Soon all the women were singing, save for Helen who didn't know the words. She watched the girls, amazed at their ability to cope in such deplorable conditions. Torn from their palace, stripped of their title, forced into a bizarre combination of imprisonment and protective custody and yet still able to laugh and sing.

"I hope your parents are doing as well in Ekaterinburg," Helen said during a lull in the singing.

Anastasia laughed. "They have Maria with them. They'll prefer the Bolsheviks by the time she gets done with them."

"Ana, shush!" Olga snapped. "That is a very mean thing to say."

Tatiana said, "If only it weren't true."

Anastasia and Tatiana both erupted in laughter while Olga rolled her eyes in a maternal manner. She looked at Helen and said, "Maria is a bit of a handful."

"I gathered."

Olga looked away toward the window and, Helen assumed, Ekaterinburg. "I have heard horrible things of the new prison we'll be going to once Alexei is healthy enough to travel. But I cannot prevent myself from wanting to be there. It will be nice to be a family again." She looked at Helen. "Will you be joining us in Ekaterinburg, Alena?"

Helen nodded. "Yes. I'll be with you for as long as it takes."

The corners of Olga's lips curled up into a sly grin. "Excellent. Plenty of time for us to learn how you do that trick with your voice."

Helen met her smile with one of her own and went back to her sewing. A day before, she would have taken the risk to explain to Olga and Tatiana that she was working with someone they couldn't see. After the curious incident on the terrace, however, she was more reluctant to reveal much to the girls before she knew the truth.

 _May, 1918_  
In her life, Helen had been several things. She'd been a student and a nursemaid, she'd been a lover and a fiancé. One thing she had never been was a prisoner.

The guards searched her and her bags while she stood in the antechamber of the house, her hands folded in front of her in a sign of obeisance. The duchesses stood with their backs to the wall between Helen and the door, and Alexei was standing across the hall from Helen with his teacher. He still looked ill, but the doctors had declared him fit to travel. Therefore the time had finally come for the children to rejoin their parents and sister in Ekaterinburg.

In the few weeks Helen and Nigel had been at the house in Tobolsk, neither of them had seen a repeat instance of the strange conversation on the terrace. Whether it had been a one-time thing or the girls had just become sneakier, it was impossible to say. Helen had tried, and failed, on several occasions to get a look at the necklaces worn by all three girls. Nigel had used his gift to slip past the guards and wired Watson to share their findings, but he'd never gotten back to them with any information. They were no closer to understanding what had happened on that terrace than the night they'd observed it.

Colonel Eugene Kobylynsky supervised the searches. When nothing was found, the duchesses were ordered out of the building to the waiting carriages. Helen came last, and Kobylynsky held up a hand to stop her. He gestured at the third carriage waiting at the palisades and it came forward. While the girls boarded the first two, Kobylynsky looked at Helen and said, "Your services will not be needed in Ekaterinburg, Miss Shirshova."

Helen was stunned. "But the girls require my assistance. Surely you can't expect their lessons to be taught by Alexei's tutor..."

"That's not my concern now," Kobylynsky said. "You'll be taken to the train station. You will be compensated and thanked for your service." He seemed reluctant to break this news to her, his sympathies showing through as the carriage arrived behind them. Helen watched the guard open the door, waiting patiently for her to board.

She sighed and picked up her bag. "I suppose I have little choice in the matter."

"None, actually. I'm sorry, ma'am. But it's for the best."

Helen pressed her lips together, hating herself for getting so close and failing. The girls and Alexei would board a ferry that would take them to Ekaterinburg. The ship had been her best chance to free them. If she wasn't allowed to board, then her plans were useless.

She placed her foot on the first step and then pretended to swoon, grabbing hold of the carriage door so that the entire vehicle lurched violently. The Colonel and the guard both rushed to help her, but Helen waved them off. "I apologize. I'm just feeling a bit clumsy at the moment. I'm fine now. I'm fine." She straightened herself on the step, smoothed down the front of her dress, and climbed into the carriage.

They had always said that, given the option, Nigel would always choose the seat farthest from the door to avoid being sat upon. Helen took the closest seat and allowed the guard to shut the door behind her. The carriage pulled away from the front steps of the house and Helen looked at the man seated across from her. He wore a guard's uniform, but his smile was less than professional.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked him.

"The maid's uniform," Watson said, running his eyes down her body again. He leaned forward in the seat to take off his jacket and tossed it at the empty seat next to Helen. "I refused to beg Nikola to join us on this mission, but had he known you would wear _that_ , perhaps I wouldn't have had to."

Helen rolled her eyes. "Boys. I hope your trip to America was more productive than our time here."

"Indeed it was. I discovered a few acquaintances associated with the security detail in Ekaterinburg. I've arranged for the three of us to be brought in as extra manpower - pardon the expression, my dear. Extracting the children shouldn't prove that difficult if we don't run into any further difficulties. Which brings me to my next point... the telegraph Nigel sent me caused some alarm."

Nigel, now visible and draped by Watson's jacket, shrugged. "So what is it? Witchcraft?"

"Something far more sinister. The amulets were gifts from Rasputin, as the boy told you. I believe he is using them to communicate with the duchesses."

Helen frowned. "Rasputin is dead. He's very dead, from the newspapers I read."

Watson raised one slender finger. "Dead doesn't necessarily mean gone, Helen. Especially not with a power like his. Rasputin was a powerful mystic and he was granted unprecedented access to the royal children. I don't suppose either of you got a good look at these amulets they were using...?"

Nigel shook his head. "They were glowing too bright when I saw 'em, and after that the girls kept 'em hidden."

"Unfortunate, but not surprising. How educated are you on Grigori Rasputin?"

"I know what was in the papers," Helen said. "He was a spiritual advisor to the Tsarina and very close to the children. Some might have said too close."

Nigel said, "And his death was about as strange as anything I've heard."

Watson pointed at Nigel. "Exactly. According to the men who conspired to kill him, Rasputin was poisoned, shot, beaten and drowned before he finally stopped fighting. When his body was burnt by soldiers, he appeared to sit up in the flames despite a doctor on hand who insisted proper cremation procedure was followed."

"Good Lord." Helen looked out the window; they were nearing the train station. "But he did burn. His body was reduced to ashes."

"If you would look under your seat, Helen." She leaned down and retrieved a black leather travel case and handed it to Watson. He flipped open the latches. "Thank you, my dear. While Nikola couldn't be bothered to accompany us on this little jaunt, he didn't send me away empty handed." He withdrew a peculiar-looking gun, the barrel of it surrounded by a golden cage. "It's a prototype of a DEW. It stands for directed-energy weapon. He believes it will have far more stopping power than a conventional firearm."

Helen took the weapon from Watson and examined it. "You believe we'll be forced to take down Rasputin."

"The tosser is dead," Nigel said.

Watson smiled. "No, dear boy. I don't believe he's dead a'tall." He twisted in his seat and looked out the window. When he found what he was looking for, he pointed. Helen and Nigel both looked and saw the ferry that would transport the Romanov children to their next prison. "I believe Rasputin is still alive, and I believe those children are his hosts."

#

The three of them took a train to Ekaterinburg. It would take longer than the ferry carrying the royal children, but they needed the time to prepare. They were in Watson's compartment, Helen and Nigel sitting on one side - Nigel was wearing a borrowed suit so that he could be visible - and Watson sat facing them with a book on his lap. "I took the liberty of doing the research myself on the trip. Traveling from New York to Moscow is a bit... tedious." Helen smirked as he turned to the correct page.

"The Russian _zhar-ptitsa_ , or ember bird. The mythology is varied, but your father believed the ember bird and the phoenix were stories based on the same creature. In Slavic mythology, the _zhar-ptitsa_ was both a blessing and a curse on those who captured it."

Helen nodded. "Sounds familiar. Rasputin was considered both a saint and an undesirable. Sometimes by the same people. There's talk that he was the final nail in the coffin for the Romanov family."

Watson nodded. "I believe Rasputin was one of these ember birds. The human form of the Abnormal is remarkably impervious to damage. Should it become too severely damaged, the ember bird enters a deeply dormant state until such time as it can properly heal itself. It would seem the people who burnt Rasputin's corpse may have inadvertently given him the means to resurrect himself."

"But he's ashes," Nigel said. He waved his hand, mimicking the movement of the wind. "They burned him and he blew away."

"Like the phoenix, the ember bird can rise from its ashes. It requires cremation for a resurrection. Rasputin predicted that his body would not be left at peace; that it would be burned and his ashes spread to the wind."

Helen shook her head. "A self-fulfilling prophecy. Those opposed to his doctrine broke into his tomb and did precisely as he told them to do. There's a chance they weren't even aware of what inspired the idea. How do the girls fit in?"

"I spoke to one of the maids who was fired when the Romanovs were imprisoned. They said Rasputin had strange powers over the girls. They fawned over him, considered him a very dear friend. Now, I'm certain these girls are wonderful human beings. They give to charity and they all volunteered in hospital during the war. But they are still young girls, and Rasputin was a... disconcerting fellow."

Nigel shifted in his seat. "Just lookin' at the man gives me the shivers."

"You believe Rasputin had some sort of grip on the girls."

"I know it to be so," Watson said. "The amulets Nigel saw the girls communing with; they were gifts from Rasputin himself. Each amulet had a photograph of Rasputin and a prayer. According to the maid, the girls never take the necklaces off."

Helen said, "If Rasputin is dead, then how is he maintaining his hold on the girls?"

"Something in the amulets. A fingernail clipping, a stray hair. Hell, if the myth is true and his natural form is a bird, perhaps there's a feather. Whatever it is, we have to eliminate Rasputin's hold on them before he uses them to bring himself back. I'm sure the amulets also have a hold over them. From what you and Nigel described, it's almost as if the girls are possessed. That may be some lingering part of Rasputin ensuring the girls don't endanger his plan. We have to get the amulets away from them."

"How do you propose we do that? The girls never part with those necklaces. Anastasia wouldn't even allow me to look at hers."

"We'll have to find a way," Watson said. "If Rasputin gathers enough strength to make his move, he won't even have to be near the girls. They'll die. Quickly, painlessly..."

Helen closed her eyes. She had known this day was coming, dreading the mission that would require her to take arms against an Abnormal. It was inevitable that somewhere out there, an Abnormal realized their powers made them a force to be reckoned with. Abnormals were no different than humans in that aspect; absolute power corrupted absolutely. But the idea of actually fighting an Abnormal, killing it if necessary...

"We can do this, Helen." She opened her eyes and saw Watson, as usual, had read her thoughts as easily as if she'd spoken them aloud. "There's no reason for you to be involved."

Helen smiled. "Because sending you to kill an Abnormal leaves me less culpable, morally speaking? No. I'll do what needs to be done."

Watson nodded and handed her one of Nikola's DEWs. She wrapped her fingers around the butt of the weapon and tested its weight. It was surprisingly light.

"I'll instruct you in its use once we reach Ekaterinburg."

Helen nodded as Nigel took one of the weapons for himself.

"What if it doesn't work?" Watson looked at her. "What if we're not able to get the amulets away from the girls and Rasputin is able to manifest himself?"

"Then the girls will die." Watson's voice was matter of fact, but his eyes were pained. "Look at this country, Helen. Regardless of Rasputin's plan, if we fail, these girls will most likely die soon anyway."

Helen nodded gravely. "Then we won't fail."

"Simple as that?" Nigel said.

Helen didn't answer. She could only hope it would be simple.

 _Ekaterinburg  
June, 1918_  
The Ipatiev House had been turned into a stronghold. A wooden palisade had been erected around the entire property, rising so high that it obscured the view even from the second-story windows. Not that it mattered, as the glass had been white-washed so no one could see out anyway. The guards had made crude chalk drawings on the inside of the fence that the children would see whenever they did manage to step outside for some fresh air.

Helen, Watson and Nigel stood on the roof of the hotel across the street, dressed all in black to hopefully prevent the guards on the ground from noticing them. The wind was cold despite the season, and Helen was grateful for her hooded jacket. She shoved her hands into her pockets as she watched the uniformed men ambling in front of the fence. She thought of Anastasia and her plays, and the concentrating face Tatiana made when she was sewing. Imagining the girls behind these prison walls was all but unbearable to her.

Watson lowered his binoculars and handed them to Nigel. "Well, when you think of 'Russian prison'..."

"When did the children arrive?" Helen asked.

"A week ago. You wouldn't recognize them, Helen." Nigel shook his head. He had actually been inside the Ipatiev House to do reconnaissance. "It's like the bastards wanted to kill their spirits instead of their bodies. And before you ask, they're still not taking those necklaces off. I've talked to the guards who're on our side but no one has seen any late night conversations."

Watson said, "If they truly were conversing with Maria, there would be no need now that they're all together again."

They had been forced to take a roundabout journey from Tobolsk to Ekaterinburg, preferring to lose time rather than risk being questioned about their trip to the town where the former royal family was being held. Time was growing short. Helen had changed into her normal clothes, her uniform with the gems sewn into the lining was stuffed into her pack. She hoped the gems would provide the children with the money necessary to start a new life in London.

Nigel broke into her thoughts by handing her the binoculars. "We'll have an opportunity to get inside the walls tomorrow evening. The girls are friendly with some of the guards on our side, and the guards are planning a little surprise for Maria's birthday. A little celebration."

"God knows they need something to cheer them up." Helen was reluctantly scanning the grounds. The building was palatial, the grounds gorgeous, but the sense of oppression was palatable. "When do we go in?"

"We will go in," Watson corrected her. "Nigel and I. We can't risk the girls recognizing you and raising a fuss."

Helen wanted to argue, but she couldn't fault his logic. "Very well." She handed the binoculars back to him, and the three of them retreated into the shadows. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

Watson smiled in the darkness. "It's a birthday party, Helen. What could go wrong?"

Nigel groaned. "Just had to say it, din't ya."

#

It was, conservatively speaking, a disaster.

The men in charge of the guards chose that evening for a surprise inspection. To find a smuggled birthday cake would have been bad enough, but one of the guards was discovered in a compromising position with the birthday girl. The Tsarina and Olga were both furious at Maria for her actions, and the commander replaced every man assigned to guard the house. The men who had promised Watson access to the Duchesses were gone by the morning, as were their hopes of an easy end to their mission.

One of Watson's guards had been reassigned to Samara, so he offered his abandoned Ekaterinburg apartment to the three of them to use for the duration. Watson and Nigel, who had very nearly been taken into custody for being on the premises when the guard was found with Maria, sat silently across the room from each other. Their failure weighed heavily on them.

Helen stood by the window, arms crossed as she tried to think of their next move. When the silence became too oppressive, she looked at the men. "We're running out of time."

"We are all extremely aware of that, Helen. Thank you for reminding us."

"Come off it, James." She moved away from the window. "We've been away from London for two months now. Away from our true work at the Sanctuary. Our efforts to liberate these children have all amounted to nothing. If you and Nigel had been arrested, where would we have been then?"

Watson stood. "Are we suggesting we abandon these girls to their fate? Need I remind you of the threat Rasputin poses?"

Helen closed her eyes. "You said they would die peacefully. Do you believe the Bolsheviks will afford them the same luxury? Either they die quickly by Rasputin's hand, or they die violently and bloody. That's if the soldiers decide to just kill them first. The duchesses are very lovely, after all." Watson started to turn away, but Helen touched his arm. "Losing our lives trying to get them to safety does no good. But if we retreat now, we can stop Rasputin when he resurrects. We'll have the upper hand on him. We'll know he's coming."

"I can't believe you would allow them to die."

"I don't have a choice in the matter," Helen said. "The only choice is whether we let ourselves be killed in the process. This is not a step I'm taking lightly, James. You must know that."

Nigel cleared his throat. "Maybe a compromise." Helen and Watson turned to look at him, and he stood. "We have Tesla's little energy guns, right? They're not fatal. We can use 'em to knock out the guards and get into the house. We wait for things to quiet down after this whole birthday brouhaha and then we go in at night. If we have to abort then, at least we'll do it knowing we did everything in our power."

Helen looked at Watson, and he gave a slight nod.

"All right. But like James said, we can't wait long. Time is running short, for us... and especially for those girls in that house."

Nigel nodded. "How long, you reckon, 'fore the new guards start to relax a little?"

Watson pondered the various parts of the equation. The anger of the garrison commander, the ire of Alexandra and Olga at what Maria had done. He stroked his thumb over his mustache and turned to face them. "We'll wait three weeks."

"Three weeks, then." Helen said. "Hopefully this will all be over by then."

Watson exhaled. "God willing."

 _July 17, 1918  
Midnight_  
Anna Demidova left the Ipatiev House at eleven fifteen that night, bundled against a strong wind that had swept out of the north. The guards allowed her to pass, and Watson intercepted Anna before she reached the end of the block. He fell into step beside her and, in his charming British way, convinced her that it would probably be best not to return to the family that evening. He asked what had brought her out into the gale, and she revealed that Tsarina Alexandra had an upset stomach and required soda water.

Helen purchased the soda water herself, dressed in her gem-laden maid's uniform with her hair loose about her shoulders. When she returned to the Ipatiev House, the wind was still strong enough that her hair blew to obscure her face. She was of a similar built to Demidova, who was also blonde, and the guards didn't think before allowing her through the gate. Nigel, invisible and cursing the god-blasted wind under his breath when they were inside the fence, followed close behind her.

The plan was to wake the girls and get them dressed while Watson arranged for their escape from the outside. Helen stepped into the front hall and immediately realized their original plan would not work.

Guards were standing on the stairs leading to the second-floor landing, and lights were burning in the corridor. She heard voices in the bedrooms and recognized one as Olga. It was too late to attempt obscuring her identity, but the guards were so focused on their task that they hardly gave her a second look.

"Move," one of the guards barked. " _Patarapis_!"

The guards were all armed with bayonets and Helen had little doubt what the family was being gathered for at two in the morning. The landing had a massive stuffed bear surrounded by her cubs, and Helen couldn't help but find it utterly horrifying in the dim light.

Nicholas and Alexandra were standing in the doorway of their bedroom while the girls were still being gathered from theirs. Helen grabbed the arm of the nearest guard. "What is going on here? What is the meaning of this?"

"You, too." He grabbed Helen's arm and roughly shoved her toward the prisoners. "Everyone in the house."

Nicholas grabbed Helen to keep her from falling. When the guard was distracted by the arrival of the duchesses, Nicholas whispered, "Who in blazes are you?"

"Your cousin George sent me." She looked at Alexandra and then looked over her shoulder at the armed guards. "However the rescue is not quite going according to plan."

She was debating whether to make her move now or wait until a better opportunity afforded itself. The children were gathered, along with Dr. Eugene Botkin and Ivan Kharitnov, the family's chef. Alexandra put her arm around Helen's elbow and drew her close. "Come with us, Anna. We will keep you safe."

"Yes, madam." Helen murmured the words and kept her head bowed as they passed the guards.

Anastasia looked back at Helen's words and her eyes widened. "Alena!"

Olga looked back and saw Helen. She put a hand on Anastasia's arm and said, "Your doll will still be there when we get back. Just leave Alena for now."

The family moved down the stairs, crossing themselves as they passed the bear statue. Helen looked for any indication of Nigel's plan, but he was silent. When they started down the stairs, Tatiana gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Alexandra turned Alexei away, pressing his face to her shoulder as she saw the same thing Tatiana and the other girls had seen. "Dear heavens!"

Helen and Nicholas were the last to see it: the body of a naked man lying at the foot of the stairs. The guards rushed to the body, but Helen didn't need to see the face to know it was Nigel. She turned back to the bear statue and saw that it was still moving. "Nicholas, Alexandra, get downstairs." She reached under her frock and removed the DEW that was tied to her uniform.

The shadows that had gathered between the bear and the wall seemed to come alive, growing and spreading until the mother bear and her cubs were lost to the darkness. One of the guards saw the gun in Helen's hand and grabbed her arm. "Surrender your weapon!"

Helen tried to throw him off, but there wasn't time. The cloud surged down the stairs and knocked both Helen and the guard off their feet. They impacted Nicholas, and he tumbled against his wife like they were dominos. As the adults tumbled, the girls grabbed Alexei and moved him out of the way; with his condition, a fall like that could have proven fatal.

Rather than the shock or horror Helen would have expected, she saw elation on the girls' faces as they watched the darkness swarm.

"Rasputin!" Tatiana said. "I told you he would return for us."

The cloud moved to one of the guards, wrapping around his head like a velvet sack. He struggled, trying to pull the ephemera away, but his fingers merely sank into the mist. One of his cohorts brought up his gun and fired once. The bullet traveled through the other guard's head, spraying blood across the wall. Only now did the duchesses scream, and Tatiana gathered her younger siblings to her.

Helen got to her feet, her right shoulder screaming in protest as she brought up the DEW. She could see, through the darkness, that the girls' amulets were glowing through their nightclothes.

"Alena, no!" Olga shouted. She launched herself off the stairs and slammed into Helen. "Don't hurt him! He's just trying to live!"

"He can only live if you die," Helen said.

"You lie," Olga said. She brought her hands up to claw Helen's face, but Helen swept her hand away. She grabbed the collar of Olga's nightgown, fumbled until she found the chain of her necklace, and tugged. It broke free and the glow seemed to dim ever-so-slightly as the jewelry fell away. "No!" Olga slapped Helen across the face and released her to grab for the amulet. "Rasputin, wait!"

The front door to the house burst open and someone ran into the fray. At first, Helen thought the exterior guards had been drawn to the noise but she quickly recognized the coat Watson had been wearing earlier. "Helen!"

"Here!" she said. She brought the DEW up and fired into the black mass.

The roar seemed to emanate from the air of the house, rattling every wall and window as it rose in volume. Watson, in the center of the cacophony, clapped his hands over his ears with a wail of pain. The guards also abandoned their weapons to protect their hearing. The only ones in the house unaffected by the noise seemed to be the duchesses and their brother. Olga retrieved her broken necklace and pressed the amulet against her chest. "Rasputin!"

Helen fired again, choosing to fire at the same, weakened spot rather than attempting to spread out the damage. Rasputin recoiled slightly, and the amulets glowed brighter.

"Use us," Olga shouted over the din of Rasputin's agony. "Please, Grigori!"

The amulet in her hand glowed so brightly that Helen could see the bones of Olga's hand. Her eyes closed and, with a sigh that almost sounded like pleasure, she sagged against the wall.

"Olishka?" Tatiana said. She left Alexei and Anastasia with Maria and ran to her older sister's aid. When Olga fell, her amulet hit the ground and cracked. The glow on Tatiana's amulet flared brighter as if in response to the sound.

Tatiana made it only halfway down the stairs before she grabbed the railing and stumbled as if all the energy had left her body. The haze of Rasputin's form seemed to gather around her, and the girl sank lower on the steps as the smoke grew darker.

"No!" Helen said. She aimed at the cloud around Tatiana and fired. The cloud had expanded like an octopus, with tentacles stretching to all the duchesses. The central portion of the cloud seemed to become more solid as Tatiana slumped to the stairs. "James!"

He appeared by her side, clutching at the sleeve of her dress. Helen saw blood trailing down his neck and collar, originating in his ears. Helen spoke clearly so that he could read her lips. "Nigel is at the bottom of the stairs. I don't know if he's..."

Watson nodded that he understood and shouted, "Get the children out! If we take away his source of power, we may have a chance."

Tatiana hit the ground and Alexandra cried out in horror. "My children!"

"What is the meaning of this?" Nicholas demanded. Helen couldn't see the former ruler through the smoke, but he sounded close.

Helen ran for the stairs. The only way to stop Rasputin was to get the children out of his reach. She reached into the darkness - it seemed to glide over her skin like living oil - and found a small hand. She pulled, and a body came to her through the darkness. She didn't pause to wonder who it was, she merely turned and started down the stairs.

The smoke coalesced into a hand with beefy fingers that closed around Helen's throat. She released the child she'd rescued and heard pounding feet running toward the door. _I saved one,_ she thought as her feet left the stairs. The smoke continued to swirl around her, gathering in a single spot directly in front of her. First she saw an arm, a shoulder and a broad chest. The face that formed out of the darkness was inhuman, the face of a golem brought to life. Its eyes were searing red lights that locked onto hers as she was hoisted like a rag doll.

"You are too late," Rasputin said, his voice rumbling loud enough to make the walls shake again.

Helen lifted the DEW and fired it into Rasputin's face. His form was still weak enough that the weapon seemed to destroy his entire upper body. His fingers returned to smoke, and Helen fell to the stairs. Her knees were bruised by her fall, but she ignored the pain as she rushed toward the square of slightly brighter darkness that formed the exit.

Rasputin bellowed, and Helen saw the Tsarina and her husband fall to the ground. It wasn't just about the amulets now; he was siphoning life from everyone he could get his hands on. Helen felt a tickle at the back of her skull that told her he was trying to get hers, but she dove through the door and landed on the dry grass outside the prison.

Small hands grabbed Helen's frock and tried to help her up, pulling her away from the house. "I'm all right," she said, getting to her feet and grabbing her attempted savior. "Run. _Run_."

"We didn't know." Anastasia was crying, clutching Helen as they raced toward the palisades. "God, we didn't know what it meant, what he would do!"

"It's all right, just run," Helen said.

Watson and Alexei were with them, Nigel's unconscious body draped across Watson's arms. The guards Watson had overpowered to break into the house were just coming to. One of them spotted the duchess and her brother and shouted for them to stop. "Please," Helen said. "You have to--"

The guard fired and Alexei hit the ground. Anastasia wailed as she watched her brother fall, and the house shook once more. Helen turned to look at the house and saw the darkness spreading out of the front door. She looked at the DEW and remembered the training Watson had given them during the three weeks they'd been waiting. She opened the base of the gun and tugged two wires free. When she looked up again, she saw that the cloud had already formed the shape of a man. He was nearly six and a half feet tall, broad-shouldered, naked but with flesh like the bark of a tree. He moved forward, his eyes locked on Helen.

"Your life is a feast."

Anastasia had dropped to her knees, crawling to Alexei's body and gathering him to her chest. Watson was kneeling beside her, but Helen knew it was no use. The guards had disappeared, frightened away by the specter standing on the front lawn of the Ipatiev House. He advanced on Helen and reached for her.

"I could live forever."

"Don't count on it." Helen had been squeezing the trigger of the DEW for forty-five seconds, despite the fact she'd disconnected the firing mechanism. She tossed the weapon underhand, and Rasputin snatched it out of the air. He turned the weapon to see what it was just as it exploded. His body became a cloud, the force of the explosion knocking Helen off her feet. The tendrils of smoke spread wide and dissipated quickly in the open air.

When she was certain Rasputin wasn't going to form again, she hurried to Anastasia's side and wrapped the girl in her arms. Watson lay Nigel on the grass, as he was already starting to revive, and ran toward the house. "Anastasia... shh. I'm so sorry, my dear." She turned and looked toward the house. Watson was standing in the doorway, looking deathly pale and shell-shocked. He met Helen's eyes and shook his head.

"It's over." Anastasia sniffled. "At least it's over."

Helen couldn't bear to tell the girl that it was far from over. She looked at Watson and tried to think of what their next move would be.

#

They spent the night in Ekaterinburg, hiding Anastasia in the soldier's house they used while they tried to come up with a plan. Anastasia, her link to Rasputin broken by her shock, explained what had happened. When Rasputin gifted them with the amulets, he'd also given them a powdered drink. They thought nothing of it, as Rasputin was always giving them little treats. Later when the girl was asleep, Watson explained that the powder had most likely been a part of Rasputin - either hair, or a feather - that he then used to tie the duchesses to him even in death.

The soldiers burned Rasputin's body as he'd planned, releasing his essence to gather his strength. When he was strong enough, he was drawn to the duchesses by their amulets. The girls and their amulets were connecting him to the mortal world. Olga, Maria and Tatiana were dead, so his grip had tightened on Anastasia. As long as she was alive, Rasputin was a threat.

They made their plans in Ekaterinburg and split up the following morning. Helen returned to the Ipatiev House and discovered the guards had sealed everything after the smoke cleared. She was sure some story was being concocted to cover the truth and, frankly, she didn't want any part of that.

Fortunately, the exterior guard had been lightened since there was no longer any risk of escape. She managed to break in through a kitchen window and entered the house silently. She could hear the guards at the front of the house cleaning up the remnants of Rasputin's rampage and snuck downstairs to the basement.

She found the Romanovs in a small, dank room. They were covered by blankets, but the blood had stained the material. Helen braced herself, fighting back the tears as she drew back the sheet to find the duchesses. She was shocked to see how old Olga, Tatiana and Maria seemed; Rasputin's draining of their lives had apparently prematurely aged them as they died. Helen carefully removed the necklaces, placing the amulets in her pocket before she bent down and kissed each girl on the forehead.

"Peace," she whispered, stroking Tatiana's hair before covering it again.

She could feel a pull from the amulets; it was like standing near one of Tesla's coils. She pushed herself to her feet and went to the stairs, using the same kitchen window to leave the house. Once she was out of the yard and no longer in danger of being captured, Helen removed the three amulets and held them in her palm.

"I know you felt my life last night. I'm holding three of your amulets now, while Anastasia only has the one. So you come after me, you son of a bitch." She stuffed the amulets into the pocket of her frock and hurried down the street. She had to keep on the move, had to keep Rasputin from getting a fix on her.

 _Siberia,  
Eight days later_  
Rasputin towered over her, the snow falling lazily through the dead tree branches overhead. The soldiers loyal to him - brainwashed when they were still loyal to the Tsar, no doubt - were unaware the chase had come to an end. She could hear them still rushing through the forest and shouting orders back and forth. Rasputin was as immobile as the trees surrounding them, but his eyes were alive with fire.

"You lost," Helen said, her voice strong despite her position.

Rasputin smiled, a horrifying expression on his charred face. "But you did not win."

He reached for her with one inhumanly large hand, and Helen Magnus closed her eyes. He would sap the strength from her slowly, stealing the life that the Source blood had given her. Hundreds of years, given to a madman. With the power of her life, he would be unstoppable. He pressed his hand to her throat and squeezed. Helen grunted and opened her eyes, facing her killer as she reached into the pocket of her frock.

"Life," Rasputin gasped, focusing on the power she represented. In his obsession to take her life as his own, he'd neglected to realize that Helen had never consumed his powder and was not in his thrall. She withdrew the amulets she'd taken from the duchesses, the jewels that had drawn Rasputin to her over so many miles.

At the last moment, he noticed her movement. He reared back, watching her hands, but it was too late. Helen shoved the amulets into his mouth, forcing them onto his tongue. Rasputin roared and shifted his weight to escape her, giving Helen the opening she needed. She bucked her hips and knocked the mad monk off, twisting and pinning his body to the snow before he could retreat. She pressed her hand over his mouth, preventing him from spitting out the jewels, and grabbed a handful of snow with her other hand.

Rasputin bellowed as Helen shoved the snow into his mouth. As it melted, the water forced him to swallow the amulets. His eyes were wide with rage, the red light within them shrinking to a single, violent pinprick.

"Come on, James..."

 _Grozny, Chechnya_  
The amulet that had once been around Anastasia's neck began to pulsate with a pale cyan glow. Watson picked it up and let the chain drape over his fingers as he crossed the library to where Anastasia was reading. On the night of the massacre, Helen had noticed that when one amulet was endangered, the others would pulsate. That would be their signal. All that remained was getting enough distance between the girl and Rasputin's unholy remains so that her thrall to him would be lessened. He prayed it would be enough.

"Ana." She looked up from her book and he saw the unshed tears in her eyes. She had hardly spoken three words since their arrival. He knelt beside her chair and showed her the amulet. It had to be her; the sole surviving thrall of Rasputin was the only one with the power to send him away for good. "For your sisters. Your brother."

Anastasia looked at him. She seemed much older than her seventeen years, older even than the man next to her. She took the amulet and watched the pulsating glow. She twisted and dropped the amulet on the table and then hoisted the book over her head. She brought it down on the amulet with all her strength.

 _Siberia_  
Rasputin bucked hard enough that he knocked Helen off of him. She scrambled back to her feet, ready to regain the fight, but Rasputin wasn't fighting. He was merely in his death throes. His sole remaining tie to the mortal plain had been destroyed, and the others were within him. His body was attempting to use itself to anchor itself to the world, and the result was catastrophic. Smoke began to rise from him, his flesh turning to charcoal before her eyes. His screams were loud enough to shake snow from the branches overhead, and the soldiers converged on the area in response.

Helen raised her hands in surrender, lowering herself to her knees as the soldiers filled the clearing. They lowered their bayonets, however, when they saw what was happening to their supernatural leader. His body was scoured by flames until there was nothing left but a wide swath of ash lying on an area cleared of snow.

Helen was trembling by the time the body was completely immolated. The guards remembered her and brought their guns back up. She could feel the weapon sights locked on her head.

"Your leader is gone. Whatever hold he had on you is gone. Let me go and I will ensure he never returns again. Or kill me, and risk being enthralled by him when he finds a way to return."

She had no way of knowing how much time passed. It felt like an hour before the first bayonet was lowered. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of weapons being slung over shoulders, the crunch of boots in the snow.

When she looked again, she was alone in the clearing. She rose, brushed the snow from her dress, and walked to the remains of Rasputin's body. She took off her frock and used it to gather the ashes. The ashes would be tested and safely stored where they wouldn't pose a threat ever again. After everything she had done, conspiring in the death of an Abnormal, there would be a place for Rasputin in the Sanctuary after all.

 _London, England  
One month later_  
After sharing a room with her sisters for most of her life, Anastasia was reluctant to sleep alone. Helen, after her ordeal, was more than willing to share her berth on their trip back to England. Nigel suffered a concussion from Rasputin's initial attack and stayed in Grozny just to be on the safe side. When they arrived in London, Watson assured Helen that he would deal with updating King George while she made sure Anastasia was safe. The king would be displeased at their failure, but saving Anastasia would ease the blow.

The gems Helen had smuggled in her uniform were exchanged for money, and Helen used it to rent a small house until Anastasia was ready for something more permanent. In the month since Rasputin's final death, Helen's world had more or less returned to normal. Although it was a bit surreal to be back at the Sanctuary after everything that she'd been through and all that she had seen, she was acclimating to her "real" life without much trouble. She agreed to stay with Anastasia to help the girl through her grief while Watson handled affairs at the Sanctuary.

One night after they'd had their baths, Helen found Anastasia in the small living room of her rented house. Her hair was down, lifeless, and she was dressed in her nightgown. When Helen found her, she was thumbing through a book of photographs.

"Are you all right?" Helen asked from the doorway.

"The people have been told I'm dead. I am a woman adrift." She bit her bottom lip. "I don't think I can sleep tonight, Alena."

Helen had revealed her true name, but Anastasia seemed to take more comfort in calling her by the other name.

"You should at least try. Come on. I'll walk with you."

"This book... these are the only pictures I have of my family. It's all I have to remember them by. Some book."

Helen stepped into the room. "My friend is still in Russia. He's mentioned trying to get some mementos and keepsakes for you."

"He will get in trouble."

"He is a very good thief," Helen said. She smiled and touched Anastasia's hair. She was still seventeen, but she seemed so much older now. Prematurely aged by the tragedy she'd seen, she was more mature than even Tatiana had been in life. But there were still signs that the fun-loving young girl still existed. Helen would do everything in her power to make that girl emerge again.

"I don't know what I am going to do with myself."

"We'll think of something. And if you wish, I'm sure I could even find a way for you to lend a hand at the Sanctuary."

Anastasia looked up, considering the idea. "I think I would like that very much."

Helen took Anastasia's hand in her own. "We'll talk more about it in the morning. For now, it's late. We should try to rest."

Anastasia let herself be lifted from the chair. Helen put an arm around Anastasia's shoulders and supported her weight as they left the room. The mission to Russia had been a failure, and she had been forced to kill an Abnormal. Her oath was to protect all life, human and Abnormal both, but she couldn't help but feel she had crossed a Rubicon.

Still, she thought as she walked Anastasia to her bedroom, the mission had been a partial success. Though she had failed to save Olga, Maria and Tatiana, Anastasia had survived and Rasputin's remains were secured at the Sanctuary. Helen kissed Anastasia's temple and squeezed the girl's shoulder. She would count her blessings; sometimes minor victories were the only kind possible.

 

end


End file.
